by Tom Wallace
“Why do you think she was beheaded?”
“That’s a great question. It certainly wasn’t to hide her identity. Sharon’s purse was in the car with her driver’s license in it, the vehicle registration was in the glove compartment, and the car’s plates revealed that she owned the car. Cutting off Sharon’s head makes no sense, unless, of course, the killer kept it as a souvenir.”
“What about drugs? Could that be the reason why she was killed?”
“There was a small amount of pot in the car. But I spoke with Sharon’s family and close friends and they all agreed she was not a serious drug abuser. According to them, her vice of choice was beer.”
“Was she married?”
“Divorced. And we ruled out her ex from the start. He was visiting Myrtle Beach when Sharon was murdered.”
“Boyfriends?”
“We looked into a few names that popped up, but we came away empty.” He paused before continuing. “Here’s the bottom line, Nick. Unless we catch a lucky break, Sharon’s murder will never be solved. That’s just a sad fact. I’ll keep working it, but I’m not hopeful.”
“The perfect murder, is that what you’re telling me?”
“The fact is, every murder is perfect until the killer is apprehended.”
I thanked Greg for speaking with me and promised I would pass along relevant information should I happen to get any. He said any help would be appreciated, and then we hung up.
~ * ~
There was a knock on my door ten minutes after ending the call with Greg Harkins. The Do Not Disturb sign was in place, so it was unlikely that one of the maids was seeking entrance. I had no clue who it might be. Perhaps it was Angel, but after what happened between us last night, I wasn’t going to hold my breath. I doubted it was my daughter, and I was right. It wasn’t.
My visitor was Jimmy Martin, his six-feet-six inches and two-hundred-forty pounds filling up the entire doorway. He was dressed in his police uniform, his badge and weapon on full display. Standing there, I had conflicted feelings. I was happy to see him after all these years, but completely surprised that he showed up.
“Been a long time, Nick,” Jimmy said, extending his hand. “How has the world been treating you?”
“Not bad, Jimmy,” I said, shaking his hand.
“Mind if I come in? We have some things to discuss.”
There was a second knock on the door before I could respond. This time, I figured one of the maids chose to ignore the sign and had come to ask if I needed anything. Once again, I was dead wrong. And completely surprised a second time.
The visitor was Angel. I opened the door, she walked in and was about to say something but stopped when she realized I wasn’t alone. She looked at me quizzically.
“Samantha, this is Jimmy Martin,” I said. “He’s the chief of police in this town. Jimmy, this is my daughter Samantha.”
Jimmy nodded, said, “Pleased to meet you, Samantha.”
“What was it you wanted to discuss, Jimmy,” I asked, as Angel sat on the side of the bed.
Jimmy glanced at Angel, the look on his face telegraphing his concerns about talking in front of her. I answered with a silent nod that it was okay for him to say what was on his mind.
“I hear you’re in town writing a book about Luke Felton’s murder,” Jimmy said. “Did I hear right?”
“Not exactly. I’m here doing research for the book. If I fail to collect enough solid, interesting information, then a book is out of the question. At this stage, I suppose you could say I’m in limbo.”
“And are you collecting enough solid, interesting information?”
“Too early to tell.”
“How long do you plan on sticking around?”
“Too early to tell,” I repeated. “Okay, Jimmy, fess up. Why are you really here? Clearly, you have a message you need to deliver. What is it?”
“You’re beginning to rattle some cages, Nick. Starting to piss off a few folks.”
“Let me guess, Jimmy. Perry Jackson has been whispering in your ear, right?”
“More like shouting in my ear.”
“Why am I not surprised? He’s not a particularly friendly guy, and he certainly doesn’t like his interrogation technique challenged. My advice to him is get over it.”
“Perry doesn’t like to take advice, Nick. Trust me, I know that better than most people. I’ve been on the receiving end of his temper tantrums more times than I can count.”
“Why? Do you two guys have issues?”
“Who doesn’t?”
“You sat in on Perry’s interrogation of Todd,” I said. “What do you think of Perry’s performance?”
“What do you want me to say, Nick? Perry got the kid to confess. That was his goal, and he succeeded.”
“Only by bullying and intimidating Todd,” Angel said. “That might be acceptable when interrogating a hardened criminal, but not when it’s a kid. The sheriff was completely out of line with Todd.”
Jimmy smiled, said, “Perry told me you were a hothead. I don’t think he was wrong.”
“So, what’s the subtext of your message, Jimmy?” I said. “That I’m supposed to be scared, to back away from seeking information for my book? Is Perry trying to intimidate me? Did he send you here to threaten me?”
“You know me better than that, Nick. I’m not here to threaten you, only to make you aware that you don’t want Perry Jackson as your enemy. He can be ruthless.”
“You’ve warned me. But I’m not scared of Perry Jackson.”
“Got it.”
“Friend to friend, Jimmy. Are you one hundred percent convinced Todd Brown killed Luke Felton? Be honest.”
“Nick, the evidence is stacked so high against Todd it would block out the sun. Based on what I know, what I’ve seen, my answer is, yes, he is absolutely guilty.”
“Okay, Jimmy, let’s say I concur that the weight of the evidence looks bad for Todd. But I’m still left with three questions that haven’t been answered: Where is the murder weapon, and how did Todd get home after killing Luke?”
“That’s two questions. What’s your third one?”
“Why was Todd’s car parked by the American Legion?”
“Those questions can’t be answered because Todd claims he has no memory of what happened that night.”
“Claims? You sound skeptical. Do you think he remembers?”
“Of course, he does. He claimed he didn’t remember for one reason…it would help him get away with what he’d done. Even after that failed, he stuck with his story. It’s bullshit. He knows what he did. You can bet on it.”
“But a search for the murder weapon was a no-brainer,” I pointed out. “That’s on page one of the homicide investigation manual. Even though Todd confessed, why not look for the knife? It’s the most critical piece of evidence.”
“You’d have to ask Perry. That was his call,” Jimmy said. “As for how Todd got home, your guess is as good as mine.”
“Why was Todd’s car at the Legion?”
“Same answer, Nick. Your guess is as good as mine.”
“Did you know Luke when he was still a cop?”
“Yeah, he was chief of police when I joined the force. He hired me, in fact.”
“Was Luke gay?”
Jimmy grimaced, said, “I don’t know, Nick. That’s…that’s something I’d rather not talk about.”
“Come on, Jimmy. You knew the guy. Was he gay?”
“I couldn’t swear to it, but I always suspected he swung both ways. Don’t forget, he had an ex-wife and two kids. So, he didn’t exactly run away and hide from having sex with women. But there was scuttlebutt that he had a thing for boys. Young boys.”
Jimmy looked first at Angel, then back at me. He took a deep breath, held it for a second, and slowly let it out. His brow was wrinkled and his eyes were troubled. I could sense he was about to reveal something he felt was important.
“Here’s what I think happened that night, Nick. Todd me
t Luke in the Legion parking lot, maybe by chance, or maybe it was a scheduled meeting. Who knows? Todd gets in Luke’s car and they drive away, eventually stopping at the place where the murder occurred. They talk, drink, do some drugs. Again, who knows for sure? Luke makes a play for Todd, promising him drugs or money in exchange for sex. Todd agrees to let Luke jerk him off or give him head. But something goes terribly wrong, maybe Todd changes his mind, he goes berserk and kills Luke. Then he whacks off Luke’s finger and takes his ring. Anyway, that’s how I see it going down.”
Finally, a plausible theory that made perfect sense even though it wasn’t what I wanted to hear or believe. And at this point, I didn’t believe it. Jimmy’s version only served to trigger another set of questions: Where did Todd get the knife? Did he bring it with him? Did it belong to Luke? What kind of knife was it? Pocket knife, switchblade, hunting knife? How long was the blade? Was it serrated or smooth? It would be helpful to have some answers, but lacking a successful search for the knife, it was virtually impossible to know for sure. That glaring oversight rests squarely on ruthless Perry Jackson’s shoulders.
I couldn’t help but wonder what else might be on Perry’s shoulders.
Fifteen
When Jimmy was gone, I turned my attention to Angel, who was sitting quietly on the bed. Dealing with Jimmy, I hadn’t had time to consider the fact that she had not only stayed in town, but was actually in my room with me. There were about a thousand things I wanted to say to her, but I felt it best to keep quiet and let her initiate the conversation. I moved closer to her and sat in a chair by the window. She had a pensive, almost enigmatic look on her face. I had no idea what she was thinking, or what she might say, but I was fully prepared to wait until she was ready to say what was on her mind, which she did after almost two more minutes of silence.
“Here’s the deal, Dad,” she said in a soft voice. “I have made the choice to stick around and continue working on repairing our relationship. Believe me, I’m more surprised by my decision than you’ll ever be. And I didn’t make it without serious consideration and some deep soul searching. But what I realized was that I really do want us to have a good relationship, to get close again. That can’t happen if I leave.”
I remained silent, knowing she wasn’t finished speaking.
“Also, you’re an adult, and that means I have no right to tell you who you can or cannot sleep with,” she continued. “But I do have a question for you. Why is it that so many of your sexual conquests put innocent individuals in a position to be hurt? That’s the part that baffles me. You were unfaithful to Mom, and now you sleep with your best friend’s wife. What’s that all about? Is it the risk of getting caught that excites you? Or could it be that you’re hoping to get caught. Tell me, I’d really like to know.”
“I have no good answers to your questions, Angel,” I said. “But I can apologize. I’m sorry I hurt you. I was wrong and I admit it. Beyond that, all I can say is thank you for giving me another chance.”
Again, a lame response, but I was thankful for the opportunity to say it. Her still being here was something I had given up on. I was convinced she was on her way to Los Angeles. I wouldn’t have blamed her if she were.
I waited for her to comment, not knowing what to expect. When she did, what she said took me by surprise.
“How long have you known Jimmy Martin?” she asked.
“Since we were kids. Why?”
“Do you trust him?”
“More than some, less than others. Why are you asking about Jimmy Martin?”
“Because I don’t think he was being truthful. I believe he came here to specifically deliver a threat.”
“No question about that. But the threat was from Perry Jackson, not Jimmy.”
“Come on, Dad. Does Jimmy Martin strike you as a mere messenger boy for anyone, even a ruthless man like Perry Jackson? I don’t think so. The guy is big as a tree. I doubt many people frighten him.”
“Jimmy was never inclined to back down from anyone.”
“There you go. And remember, Jimmy sat in when Todd was questioned. And not all of the interrogation was taped. We have no way of knowing what Jimmy might have said to Todd. He could’ve been just as belligerent and bullying as Perry Jackson was. I’m telling you, Jackson and Jimmy…those two dudes are tight. No, Dad, that warning was from both men, I’m sure of it.”
While I wanted to disagree with her and give Jimmy the benefit of the doubt, I couldn’t do it. A voice inside my head kept whispering that she was right.
“Here’s something else that troubles me,” I said. “I’ve spoken with Jimmy and with Perry Jackson, yet neither man once went beyond acknowledging that Todd’s car was parked by the Legion the morning after the murder. Neither one mentioned anything about Todd being inside the Legion. And nowhere in any of those talks did they bring up Rabbit’s name. Why, I keep asking myself? Those are huge omissions.”
“If Jimmy’s theory is correct, Todd probably didn’t go inside. He met up with Luke outside the Legion and they left.”
“Yeah, if Jimmy’s theory is to be believed. But that’s a big if.”
“You don’t see it happening the way Jimmy laid it out?” she asked.
“Sounds good, but…there are too many holes in his story to satisfy me. And the so-called investigation? How shabby was that? Todd’s car was found in the Legion lot, so why wouldn’t Perry Jackson ask the folks inside if Todd was there that night? That would’ve taken, what, all of fifteen minutes? For any legitimate investigator that would be standard operating procedure in a homicide case. Yet Perry ignores it?”
Angel scrunched up her face, puckered her lips, and in a deep voice said, “It would have been a waste of time. The damn kid confessed,” delivering a near-perfect Perry Jackson impression.
“Not bad, Angel,” I said, chuckling. “You should be an actor.”
“We need to speak with Rabbit,” she said, getting serious again.
I liked how she said we. “He’s definitely on our radar,” I responded.
“You keep asking if Luke was gay. Maybe you’re posing the wrong question. Maybe the better question is, was Todd gay?”
I shook my head, said, “He wasn’t. Karen Tucker had him in class at school. She said he was a ladies’ man, a real horn dog.”
“Horn dog? Does that sound like anyone we both know?”
Give the kid credit. She knew when to plunge the dagger in and twist it. “I’ll plead the Fifth on that one, if you don’t mind,” I said.
“Wise decision.” She turned serious again. “You also keep bringing up the knife, how important it would be if it was located. So, why don’t we go search for it?”
“Angel, that knife was never lost. Whoever killed Luke took it with him.”
“Which means Todd could have tossed it on his way home, however he got there.”
“If you believe Todd is guilty.”
“You don’t?”
“I’m still straddling the fence on that question. However, more and more I’m beginning to lean toward him being innocent.”
“Okay, so how do we prove it?”
“We don’t. Not tonight, anyway,” I said. “I’m starving. What about you? Are you hungry?”
“Now that you mention it, yeah, I am.”
“Good. Let’s try the Mexican place next door. I’m craving a chimichanga.”
“And a Tecate,” she said.
“You’re too young to drink, Angel.”
“Fake ID, Dad. Remember?”
“I was trying not to.”
~ * ~
The motel was close enough to the restaurant that we could have walked there. But we didn’t. Angel wanted to drive, so we went in her rental. We ordered…she got her beer without having to flash her fake ID, and thus becoming a Kentucky criminal…and we ate what I considered an excellent meal. We stayed for almost an hour, never once discussing the Brown-Felton murder.
Mostly, we talked about Kate, and about how close s
he and Angel were. Angel admitted there were the normal mom-daughter adult-teen flare-ups, but none that were too great to overcome. Listening to Angel, I was once again reminded of the mistake I had made, and of how much I had missed.
Angel wanted to pay for dinner, but I waved her off. She asked if she could leave the tip and I agreed. When we got back in her rental, I suggested that we take another spin around town, which we did. I pointed out a few more places that were important to me when I was growing up, including where the old pool room had once been.
“There was an alley behind the place where plenty of arguments were settled,” I said. “See that alley across the street? It ran between a restaurant and J.C. Penney’s. That alley led up behind the old movie theater. That’s where Billy Hughes and I fought.”
“So, you were what…a hoodlum?” she asked.
“Far from it. I actually hated fighting. But, there were times when I didn’t have a choice. Well, that’s what I thought at the time. Looking back, I know there is almost always an alternative to fighting.”
“Have you ever heard of Krav Maga?”
“Sure, it’s a hand-to-hand combat technique developed in Israel. What about it?”
“I have a brown belt in it. And that’s only one step below black belt.”
“Really? What prompted you to do that?”
“I read somewhere that Sean Penn excelled at it. I like him, so I thought, why not give it a try? I did, and as it turns out I’m a pretty good student. I moved up the ranks really fast.”
“How long have you been taking lessons?”
“Since I was eight.”
“So, you’re the real badass in the family.”
“Let’s just say, I do know how to handle myself in a tussle.”
“Thanks for sharing that with me. I’ll do my best to not piss you off.”
“Again, another wise decision on your part.”
We drove back to the motel and pulled in next to my car. There were no other cars in that part of the parking lot, which was in back of the motel. But someone had definitely been there at some point. Getting out of the car, I saw that all four of my tires were flat. It was obvious they had been punctured by a sharp object, maybe a knife, possibly a screwdriver. One thing was certain… four tires going flat at the same time was no accident.